Prejudice

It clouds the vision of its proponents Causing them to see things that are not. It mixes their minds into components To which rational people give no thought. It dismisses those whose eyes are angled Or whose skin is anything but white. It is quick to see the homeless as mangled And to surmise they cannot be half-right. It believes its views are singularly correct And all other positions implacably wrong. It lumps non-conformists into a sect And treats them as a misguided throng. It forecloses on every outreached move Designed to help it achieve perspective. It knows what it knows—nothing to prove, Unaware its thinking is grossly defective. It owns uniquely the truth of every issue, Taking care to avoid having facts intervene. Its arguments are made of gossamer tissue, And in time they are sluiced from the scene.